My hands tightened on the reins. “To the Dark Woods, exactly as I told ye. Where the devil else would I be taking ye?”
She nodded but looked away from me, back to the road and the countryside. She suspected I was lying. I knew it by her stiff posture and her white-knuckled grip on her reins. I vowed then and there to ensure she would be well rewarded for her service to the king, and I would personally escort her back to the Summer Walkers when the king’s daughter was better. Or, mayhap, if she would allow me, I’d court her. I wasn’t escorting her to a terrible future, I reasoned, grasping my new line of thinking. I was giving her an opportunity to gain a better life by serving the king.
Chapter Nine – Katreine
I studied the landscape as we rode in silence, trying to decide whether I could trust James. Irma had said north was the wrong direction to the Dark Woods, but James had insisted there were other ways to get there and that he was taking us the safest route.
Still… The land didn’t feel as I expected it to. The path sloped steadily beneath us, rising more often than it fell, carrying us deeper into the hills’ folds rather than down toward them. I had thought we would eventually descend toward lower ground, where the air grew sharper with the scent of salt, but the breeze that brushed my face held only the damp chill of moss and peat.
I lifted my gaze to the horizon, or what little I could see of it through the twisting oaks. The sun lingered behind us, and I knew that if we rode true toward Skye, it ought to fall more to our left than before. I frowned faintly. Perhaps the path curved. These Highland trails twisted like old roots, doubling back on themselves in ways that made a body lose all sense of direction. That must be it. Even so, I found myself listening for the sea, but heard no distant sound of waves crashing, no crying gulls circling overhead. Of course, we had only just started the day’s journey. The sea could still be far away. All I heard was the whir in my head, the soft rustle of leaves, and the steady clop of hooves against the earth.
A burn crossed our path then, its waters slipping darkly over stone. I watched the current for a moment longer than necessary as we rode through it. It flowed away from us, eastward, I thought, though I could not be certain. My da’s voice echoed faintly in my memory, chiding me for never learning my directions as I ought.
What if ye must find yer way someday, lass?
By the gods, he’d been wise. A sharp pang of longing slashed through me. I yearned to see my family once again. I shook off thoughts of what might be to focus on what was, and with a sigh, I shifted in the saddle, wincing at the pain.
I instantly felt James’s gaze on me. How was it that I could feel when he looked at me? I’d never experienced such a thing with a man, not even with Alec. But I could somehow sense James, and as if he sensed I was thinking of him, he said, “We will stop to eat a noon meal, take a rest, and see to yer wounds.”
I drew a breath to protest, and he said, “Do nae waste yer efforts. I will nae change my mind.”
“Fine,” I muttered, suspecting that if I argued, he would stop longer than he thought necessary just to prove a point. In truth, he was right. I did need to put salve on my wounds and give my arse and inner thighs a break, though, with the special padding James had fashioned on my saddle to protect my arse and thighs, I was in much better shape than I would have been otherwise. Those thoughts reminded me I’d not thanked him for his consideration today or his care last night.
“Thank ye for fashioning a cushion on the saddle for me and for last night,” I said, trying and failing miserably to push down the memory of his hands on my body.
“’Tis the least I could do, given my idiocy caused yer wounds.”
“I was the one who hid the truth of my pain from ye,” I reminded him. No man who felt this much guilt and had tended my wounds so gently would lie to me. I just could not reconcile that. James was honorable. I’d fallen asleep, naked except for my linen cloth and the coverlet, in his arms. I recalled, albeit groggily, his holding me, offering soothing words, and pressing the gentlest kiss to my head. It was one of the reasons I’d fled the room this morning. I’d needed some distance from him, andthe desire he had awakened within me until I decided what to do about it, if anything.
We fell back into companionable silence, and I found myself surreptitiously studying James instead of the landscape. He rode with quiet certainty, his posture easy yet deliberate, as though he knew this route well. His steadiness soothed me more than the land unsettled me.
“Yer knowledge of the healing arts is impressive for someone so young,” James suddenly said, breaking the silence.
“Is it?” I asked cautiously. I’d lived long enough with this curse to be wary of statements like this.
“Aye,” he said. “I’ve dealt with many a healer, but nae ever any as knowledgeable as ye are at yer age. How many summers did ye say ye are?”
“I did nae say,” I replied, hoping the trickle of fear I felt did not show in my words.
“So elusive,” he replied. “How many summers are ye?”
“What was yer secret mission for the king?” I shot back.
“I could tell ye,” he said, “but then I’d have to kill ye.”
I looked sharply at him and found him grinning at me. My heart skipped a beat at how devastatingly handsome his smile was. He looked like a young lad on the verge of a great deal of trouble, except for the lines of age that crinkled around his eyes. “How old are ye?” I blurted.
“Forty-two summers,” he answered without hesitation.
He was not much older than me. The truth of it stole my breath. “Why have ye nae ever married?”
“What makes ye think I’ve nae ever wed?” he asked.
Heat blossomed on my cheeks. “Oh, I, I’m sorry, I just—”
“I’m poking at ye, lass. Ye’re right.”
“So,” I said, “Do ye nae want a wife, a family?”
